Bound to Zero
by InsidiousAgent
Summary: Andreas Nordstam. Murderer, thief and terrorist. And now, by Fate's fickle will, a familiar to a young noblewoman in a world wherein he struggles to find anything redeemable. But when the Voidbearers rise corrupt and the world hurtles into chaos, it is said that a Sinbearer will awaken to blanket the realm in the punishing flames of the Emissary of Damnation; the demon Maktalfr.
1. Through The Gate

**Author's Note:**

**Hey ya'll! **

**This is me trying something a bit different to see if it might cure my writer's block. I hope you'll like it, but if you don't then that's fine too.  
As always, constructive criticism and opinions are most welcome. In fact, I (just as any writer does) need them to improve my writing.**

* * *

The crisp winter air bit at my neck as I lowered myself silently onto the floor. As if ancestors long lost to oblivion had reached out to me from Niflheim itself.  
A warning whispered at the threshold.

I took a deep breath and then closed the window behind me. A pang of something too stunted and small to be given notice tugged at my conscience as I stalked through the darkened hallway of the castle. Through the gate of the damned.

* * *

Cheerful voices rose from a gathering of youngsters overseen by an elderly man in the walled courtyard of a grand tower.  
An air of excitement hung in the air as they were all having lively discussions among themselves. The lush and neatly cropped grass shone with a luster under the warmth of summer's sun.  
It was certainly a beautiful day for the Summon Servant ceremony. However, Louise de La Valliere had, at present moment, a hard time finding anything enjoyable about this particular day.

She tried her best to block them out; the voices of her fellow mages and nobles, as they taunted and jeered from the crowd encircling her.  
They'd all succeeded in summoning their familiars, leaving Louise as the last student to take the exam.

The reputation of her entire family was now resting on her ability to perform this one spell. Taking a shallow, quivering breath she tried to steady her resolve.  
She was trying her best to use the snide remarks and jokes rattling off around her as fuel for her determination.

"You said you could summon something greater than this boy. Didn't you, Louise?" A red haired girl called out to her, as she lazily petted the mighty reptile beside her. A superior smirk playing in the corners of her mouth.

"Naturally!" Louise shouted, raising her chin and shifting her stance. Her grip tightened around the wand in her hand. "Please…" She whispered in prayer. Then she raised her wand, eyes set and hard with resolve.

* * *

"… P-please! Don't! Don't hurt my family!" Cornered, he slumped to the floor. I regarded the man with utter contempt as I grabbed him by his collar and threw him head first into a desk. A shrill yell escaped him as I fell upon him again, dragging him whimpering and sobbing into the bedroom next door.  
Careful not to leave tracks, I stopped short of the pool of blood therein, and tossed my captive into it. As soon as he hit the floor he balled up into a sobbing, shivering lump of cowardice and fear.

"I'm afraid, _your majesty,_ that your request came too late." The grate of the voice distorter built into my mask adding another layer of menace to my voice.

The monarch, clearly not wanting to but compelled to act upon his fear, raised his gaze. Only to stare straight into the cold, dead eyes of his son. His breath hitched and died in his lungs. Slowly the king crawled toward the dead prince, cradling his sons head in his lap. His head shaking in disbelief. His lips moving without making a sound.

A sudden giddiness etched a predatorial grin across my face, and I had to wrest control over a sudden impulse to throw my head back and laugh.  
Opting to do something useful instead, I checked the magazine on my SMG. _23 rounds… It'll have to do._ No alarms had been raised as far as I could tell and I'd stashed away the guards I had taken out on my way in. They were, I must add, surprisingly few. One would think that the friggin' _Royalty_ would be better guarded, but evidently not. _That's modern day Swedish naiveté for ya_…

_Anyways, time to end this._ I turned my attention back to the monarch. A spike of sadistic glee shot through my mind as I watched him rock back and forth with his sons head in his lap, what little blood remaining in the prince's body trickling out into the king's lap from his slit throat.

"Your entire family is dead and your bloodline ended. Unfortunately-"

"You monster! You psychopath!" The king's voice broke as he screamed at me. I rewarded his sudden burst of defiance with a boot to his face.

"Now, now. A man can never be both. See…" I knelt down, the muzzle of my MP5 staring the broken monarch squarely in the face as it rested on my knee.  
Drawling on, a morbid amusement leaked into my voice. "… It lies in the very nature of the two to be utterly incompatible. Psychopaths and their like are more akin to, say, a plague or a hurricane. They are slaves to their nature, unable to truly choose their path as they can never feel the highs and lows of richer emotions and concepts. Good and evil, light and dark are simply words to them. Let me put it like this; They cannot truly be evil, because they cannot choose to be good. They simply _are_. Now, a monster on the other hand, is one who _knows_ the evil of a choice, but makes it anyway. One who can both stare into the abyss and gaze upon heaven, yet in spite of this willingly takes the plunge into the pit. Ironically, it takes a _heart_ to be a monster. And unfortunately for _you_, as I was going to say before, in times like these it is often great evil that best serves the greater good." As my monologue came to an end, I placed my finger on the trigger.

"You're _insane_."

_Ta-ta-tat._

"If only… If only."

As I turned to leave, a bright light sprung forth from the dark of night and engulfed me. And then there was nothing.

* * *

"My slave who lives somewhere in the universe!" Lousie declared in a strong voice. "Oh, sacred, beautiful and strong familiar spirit! I desire and here I plead from my heart! Answer to my guidance!" And with a flourish, she whipped her wand downwards.

_Boom!_

A cloud of dirt and smoke erupted in a deafening explosion from where Louise's wand had been pointing and engulfed the gathering of magi. Sending everyone into fits of coughing and spluttering.

"I knew this would happen" Complained one of the young mages in between coughs.

"Montmorency! Are you alright?" Yelled another, a blonde young man who seemed significantly more… _flamboyant_ than his peers as he dove to the side of a blonde girl with curly hair. The girl, Montmorency, did not reply and instead pointed in the direction of the center of the explosion with a look of stunned disbelief on her face. The boy followed her direction and an equally stunned look took over his features as well.

Lousie on the other hand stood shaking, gritting her teeth in anger and humiliation as the people around her started calling out the obvious.

"A _Human_?!"

"What's with that outfit? Is he a commoner?"

"He _must_ be, just look at it!"

"I'm not sure; I've never seen _anyone_ dress like that. Commoner _or_ noble."

Lousie stood there cursing inwardly with raging fervor, glaring at what she had summoned.

Before her, seemingly unconscious, lay a man. At least she thought it was a man, judging from his large physique, as his face was obscured by a steely metal mask.  
The mask was a garish thing with an intimidating, skeletal look to it and a thick black veil attached to it. The combination of how the veil obscured everything down to the shoulders but the mask itself and the dull black and grey colour-scheme of the outfit drew even more attention to the mask. So much so that she did not take note of the strange equipment he was carrying until it made soft clinks and rustlings as the man stirred.

Impatient, insulted and a fair bit _miffed_ Lousie cast a challenging glare at the stranger as he awakened with a groan.

"Who are you?!" She more yelled than asked. The man froze, the dark hollows of his masked eyes trained at her. Lousie let out a yelp, accompanied by the collective gasps of the crowd, as the man suddenly _shot_ out his arm, grabbing her by her throat and hoisting her into the air as he rose. She felt the cold touch of metal against her temple as the stranger pressed a curious instrument he'd carried anchored to his belt against her while keeping her held in front of him like a human shield.

The crowd, yet again stunned into inaction, gawked at the scene. Until the stranger boomed in a foreign language neither of them could understand.

"Founder's mercy! Help her already!" Cried one of the young magi.

The crowd started shouting, some of them pointing their wands and staves against the stranger. However no one seemed to know what to do. Worse; the stranger seemed to get further agitated, alternating between pointing his instrument at those brandishing their wands against him and shouting in that strangely distorted voice while pressing the tip of the instrument against Louises head.

"Everyone!" A bald, priestly looking man wielding a robust wooden staff shouted over the raised voices of the crowd. "Lower your wands, now!"

"But!-" The red-head with the reptilian familiar objected with fire.

"I said lower your wands!" The priestly man ordered again, slowly placing his own staff on the ground while raising his hands in a placating gesture. All the while keeping his eyes fixed at the stranger. The others followed suit, if reluctantly. Once the immediate threat was gone, the stranger seemed to truly take in his surroundings.

The dark pits of his mask swept across the scene before him, and suddenly, his strength seemed to drain from his grip. Lousie dropped with a complete absence of grace as his hands fell to his sides. Coughing and wheezing, she crawled towards her own wand as she'd dropped it in the strangers surprise attack. As soon as she reached it she whipped around, ready to defend herself, only find her attacker staring into the sky. Still as a statue.

"Are you alright, Miss Valliére?" The priestly man asked as he helped her up.

"I-_cough_- think so, Mr. Colbert." Lousie found that her legs didn't quite carry her, as her adrenal response to the ordeal still wracked her small frame.

"Right. Good. Now, I think we need to find a way to communicate with this… man." Colbert studied the tall black-clad figure with equal measures of caution and curiosity.

"Let me." Colbert blinked, thinking he must have heard wrong.

"Miss Valliére? I don't think it particularly advisable that…"

"It's my responsibility, my…" Louise hesitated, cringing at the thought, but stood her ground all the same."…Familiar."

* * *

I would not call myself prone to confusion or surprise. If my mind was faced with an unknown it would simply churn on in its normal, steady march, grinding away at any obstacle no matter its composition. But now… myriad questions darted through my mind at an impossible rate. I was truly stunned.  
Somehow, I'd been transported from the Swedish king's, by night's shroud darkened, castle to this sunlit place. A place that was, judging from the ghostly pale outline of not one but _two_ moons in the sky, nowhere near Earth. To say I needed a moment to digest the circumstances I was in was... a bit of an understatement.

The tense crowd of agitated strangers around me seemed to pose no threat at the moment. Though that had been demoted to a lesser, peripheral concern at the moment. The girl I'd grabbed before now started to walk toward me as my questions distilled into something more manageable.

She spoke. Questioned. I regarded her with more interest this time. She was no doubt braver than she looked. She was small, ridiculously small compared to myself, but she was clearly a young woman rather than a child. Her hair was a lustrous strawberry blonde curtain that fell in waves all the way down to her waist. She held herself with pride and dignity and as far as I could tell on a first glance; it was not all the vainglorious pompousness I usually saw in people who carried themselves that way. _Interesting_.

As I glanced around, I took in the appearance of the strange gathering and came to a conclusion. They looked like mages from out of fiction. The younger ones most likely students, the elderly one their tutor and if I were to guess I'd been transported here through their magic. I blinked at the conclusion a few times. _Mages, really?_ But as for now, it was the only thing that even remotely made sense.

I turned my attention back to the petite would-be mage in front of me. She spoke again, more impatient and demanding this time. I cocked my head slightly to the side while I took in her features.

They were all fine and delicate, much more so than anything I'd ever seen before. The word "aristocratic" came to mind. She was certainly pretty and given a few years she'd likely grow into a beautiful young woman. Unless my estimation of her age was off.

Seeing as I did not respond to what I presumed was her own language, she began to speak a number of different languages, firing off the same question over and over. I counted four before she had to think for a second or two and then come up with a fifth language. _Clever as well, I see. A rare combination._

The languages all sounded familiar to languages I knew from back home. Her own (judging from how she'd started with that particular language) sounded like French, not that I knew a full sentence of it, but still. I recognized two others as German(_ish_) and Italian but the others were too archaic and foreign for me to place. I decided to try something.

"Parlez-vouz Anglais? Suedois? Je ne parle pas Francais." My sudden break from silence seemed to startle the crowd as much as the girl. Or maybe my voice distorter was to blame. Anywho, that was all the French I knew. Hopefully it was enough to kick-start communications.

"Anglais?" She repeated; furrowing her brows in an equal measure of concentration and confusion before letting out another string of her native tounge. Seemingly more directed at herself rather than me judging from her contemplative tone and body language.  
Suddenly she looked up, determined yet again.

"Did you perhaps meant to say 'Albionais', commoner?"

* * *

**Author's Addendum:**

**I've been wanting to give writing a Zero no Tsukaima a try ever since I watched it, but I never got around to it. Well, now I am on vacation and I'm definitely going to get some writing done so here we go!**

**The setup of the anime is just ideal for an OC or SI. However this is not an SI like my other fic here on fanfiction.**  
**Though I'll admit that key components of the protagonist personality, psyche and physical appearance are taken from myself. Well, that and a long list of oftentimes rather nasty traits. But then I threw it all into the blender and voila; protagonist.**

**The rating is M because I will not shy away from the (if it was real) real consequences of magic, medieval warfare and the rather unforgivable aspects of human nature.**  
**And, of course, the better (and sometimes steamier) aspects thereof.**

**Also, and this is important, I'll mostly be using Inner Legions' "An American Geek In Halkeginia" version of the Zero-verse as reference and 'canon' simply because it is by far the best Zero fanfic on this site and the verse he's cooked up for it is just brilliantly done. Of course I'll be tweaking it to fit my plot but still.**

**I strongly recommend that you read his work by the way. I have it favorited so you can just click your way to it from my favorites.**

**Anyway, thank you all for stopping by! 'til next time; cheers!**


	2. Rode The Knight

**Author's Note:**

**And here we go, the second episode.  
I'd like to say thank you to everyone who've read this so far, even even more so to those that have taken the time to review it.  
You're great, guys.**

* * *

I stared, dumbstruck, at the small wonder in front of me. _Just how the hell does she know English?_

"… No, I did not. The language we're currently speaking is called 'English' where I come from."

A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd. The pinkette in front of me simply burrowed her gaze into me, as if I was a puzzle she was trying to solve. Which, I suppose, wouldn't be too inaccurate a parable.

"Here, it is called 'Albionian'. Where exactly would you claim to hail from, commoner?" She spoke, with just a tinge of what sounded like a French accent to my ears.

I frowned at how she addressed me. Not that she could see it.

"Interesting…" I left her question unanswered as I scanned my surroundings further. "But don't call me 'commoner' again. Where exactly is 'here' anyway?"

"Why, this is the Magic Academy in the kingdom of Tristain. And why should I not address you as a commoner? You… wouldn't be a noble, would you?" At this, she actually paled a little.

Judging from how she spoke of 'nobles' and 'commoners', this world was either primitive or had degenerated to a medieval state. What I could see around me certainly affirmed my conclusion as I could see nothing that would indicate the presence of any advanced technology. The massive castle grounds we were in definitely added to my suspicions.

"Meaning I am in another world than mine, then. I wouldn't call myself noble or _a_ noble. Where I come from we've left such primitive notions behind. Only idiots who think they're better than others just because they have old money in their family would call people 'commoners'. And probably get a broken nose in response.  
But as far as I can see, you are primitive indeed. As much as I hesitate to ask… how did I get here?"

It was remarkable to see her go from pale and somewhat humbled to insulted and her face flushed with anger and indignation. She stuck up her chin and huffed. The young ones in the crowd around us seemed to think much the same as her about being called 'primitive', as a chorus of agitated exclaims erupted around us.

"Why, you were summoned here of course. You truly are a commoner, aren't you? Calling us such things when you don't know the first thing about magic." Her haughty attitude was starting to get on my nerves. And I was done playing games.

"Look here you little _brat_…" My voice dropped to a menacing low rumble as I towered over her. "I don't care about you or your plans or anything that's going on here. I have things of _real_ importance to deal with so you better send me back the same way I got here or I'll start carving my way out of here. Starting with you."

Even though her eyes went wide with fear, the pinkette in front of me didn't move an inch and stood as straight as she could in a posture just _radiating_ defiance. Just as she was about to open her mouth however, the balding teacher stepped up with his hand held out in a calming, placating gesture.

"I'm afraid that would be impossible." The priestly looking man interrupted, with a sincerely apologetic look on his face.

"Bullshit. Whatever you did brought me here in the first place. Reverse it. _Now_."

"As I said, it is impossible. The Summon Servant spell is not a spell of transportation in that sense. It is entirely irreversible. Unfortunately, you are… stuck here."

I stared at him in utter disbelief. _Summon Servant?! I'm stuck here?_

I snarled and stalked up to him instead, grabbing him by his collar.

"And just what the hell do you mean by that? If you lot think you can make me your 'servant' then you've got another thing coming. And what's all this talk about spells and shit, you're seriously going to tell me that you primitive idiots are _mages_?! Why the hell am I here? Why did you bring me here? Answer me!" By now I was shaking him like a ragdoll. Anger boiling, brimming and very nearly slipping from my control. Suddenly there was an added weight on my arm.

"You're my familiar! Now let. Professor. Colbert. Go!" The pinkette had just thrown herself on me, and was now dangling from my arm, tugging at it like a frenzied ferret.

For the second time today, I found myself stunned.

"… I'm your…_what_?" I let Colbert go as in a daze and turned my attention entirely on the brave young magi holding on to my arm.

"My familiar. And believe me, I'm not happy about it either. But I cast the spell, and it chose you as my familiar. Normally it's not supposed to summon humans but like Professor Colbert said, the spell is irreversible. So I'm stuck with you as much as you're stuck here."

We both fell silent for a moment. Her still panting from imitating a belligerent badger just now.

"I need a moment." I said in a toneless voice.

"C-certainly."

I strode off a bit from the group. Though trying to gather my wits proved difficult. _Unsurprising._

So, to wrap it up; I'd been summoned by an adolescent mage to be her familiar in a world obviously not my own. A world which seemed to not only have magic but also be set in medieval times or at least a pre-industrial age. And, perhaps most intriguing, some languages from my world seemed to exist here. Which indicated that people had traveled between this world and mine for a long time. Years ago I would have been thrilled by this, I admitted to myself. But I had already found my purpose, and now fate threw me this curveball? _Sonova_…

I looked back at my would-be master, studying her as best I could.

_Well, she's got guts, I'll give her that_. She didn't seem to have any direct control over me, so hopefully my free will isn't affected by this… _spell_. Looking at the other students, I found that she was indeed the one that stood out the most. She had an intriguing aura about her. Perhaps, serving her for a time wouldn't be too bad. I assume my immediate needs would be covered at least. And since service seems optional… I'll just slip away when I've no use for her or my status as her familiar. Or when I find another way to get back to Earth. Though I should definitely find out more about how this familiar deal works before accepting anything. Right then, course of action decided.

* * *

"Are you alright. Miss Valliére?" Professor Colbert asked, as he corrected his glasses and his rather ruffled garb.

Louise immediately started stumbling over herself trying to come up with a sufficient apology, deeply ashamed over how her _supposed_ familiar had manhandled her teacher. Colbert just chuckled and waved her apologies away.

"Don't worry about me, miss Valliére. I've had worse treatments in my day. However, despite what just happened, I find this turn of events to be… rather refreshing."

Louise could hardly believe her ears, but still sighed inwardly in relief at not being scolded for yet another magical mishap.

"But Professor, he's _human_. Or at least I think he is. I've studied every available text on the Summon Servant ritual and there is no mention of a human ever having been summoned as a familiar. _He_ is not what I asked for." As much as she would hate admit yet another failure, especially when she had worked so hard to at least get this particular spell right, she felt that something must have gone wrong.

Much to Louise's annoyance, her constant rival Kirche decided to add her voice to the conversation.

"I would hardly call _that_ a, what was that chant again? Ah, yes, a 'sacred, beautiful and strong' familiar." In this moment, Louise wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off that vile, lustful face.

"Now, now, miss Zerbst. It is not befitting of your station to insult another mages familiar. Besides, I can vouch for his strength at the very least. And if my hypothesis is accurate, I'd say that this man, whoever he is, is a soldier or warrior of some sort. That piece of equipment he was threatening miss Valliére with before looked like a very advanced pistol. Add to that the fact that he found ourselves primitive at a first look and we may have a potentially valuable familiar here." Colbert patted Louise's shoulder with an encouraging smile. "As for the precedence of a human familiar, well. Students do not have access to the same resources as teachers. I'll investigate this further. But now we must finish the ceremony. Go see if he is ready, miss Valliére."

Louise almost asked Colbert do approach that brute of a familiar himself, but her pride wouldn't let her. She swallowed hard, took as deep a breath as she could without appearing weak or afraid and marched up to the hulking man she'd summoned.

He in turn seemed to expect her, and simply waited, completely unreadable. But tall. _Founder, was he tall_. When she got close, she found herself looking up, and up, and _up_ to meet his gaze. Not that she wasn't used to looking up at people, having always been of a rather small stature, but this man was taller than anyone she'd ever met.

"So…" She found herself at a loss for words, truth be told. "Are you ready, comm… _familiar_?"

"That depends entirely on what being your familiar means." His voice, as unnerving as whatever he used to distort it with made it, was calm and collected. _Good_.

"It means that you'll serve me. And… protect me."

"_Hmpf_, sounds easy enough." The towering man grunted. " Does it enslave me or take away my freedom in any way?"

"I… normally it would. In fact you'd already be under my control but since you're human… I don't know. It doesn't seem like you are." She couldn't help but let some bitterness seep into her last sentence.

"Well, I suppose there is a silver lining… Very well, I'll take the job. So how do we do this?"

"It's hardly an _employment_, you know?" She let out an exasperated sigh. _Is he that determined to be difficult?_ "We'll go back to the others and finish the ceremony."

"Alright…"

As they walked back, side by side, she took a moment to really look at him.

Now that he wasn't just a threating mass, she could see why the professor had come to the conclusion that he was a soldier. It seemed as though it was by design, how all but that hideous visage was the only feature that she'd really registered before as the rest of him had seemingly been reduced to a terrifying unknown. Every part of his outfit was in the same dull spectrum of dark greys, greens, browns and blacks. Including his equipment.

His hosery was black and littered with pockets shut closed with a kind of small chain she hadn't seen before, as well as the additional brown pockets strapped around his thighs.

His boots too were of an unknown make. Sturdy and plated along the shins and the top of his foot with a matted grey steel, leaving the joints unobstructed.

She looked to his torso, curious to see how it all fit together, alien as it were.

He seemed to have a black long-sleeved shirt underneath it all. Atop of that he wore a protective vest that seemed to be mostly composed of a kind of textile fabric with the same dull matted steel plating on his back and chest as his boots, only split into dozens of interlocking segments so as to not hinder his movements. Atop the vest was strapped a whole array of pockets and straps containing and holding an arsenal of things she couldn't make sense of. Except for the obvious, and large, knife strapped to his upper arm. She thought she could make out a packet of smaller knives to the left side of his belt as well. The instrument she too had to agree looked, upon closer inspection, like a pistol hung anchored to the right side of his belt.

On his arms he wore protective guards and gloves, also with plating, but a lot less than she'd seen on any knights or men-at-arms. Except from his left arm. There he wore a full gauntlet with fingers that ended in pointed, wicked looking finger segments. Louise found herself glad that he hadn't grabbed her with _that_ arm.

And then there was the mask. The veil obscured all but the face part, and hung all the way down to his shoulders. As she looked closer, she saw that though it hung loosely it was actually anchored in the vest as well. The more she looked at the mask though, she noticed that it was too bulky to be just a mask, and judging from how the veil hung around his head, she guessed that it was actually a helmet that he was wearing.

As a contrast to the rest of his attire, the 'mask' had a sheen to it. It was hammered so that the light broke from myriad reflective surfaces at once, giving an odd, lifelike illusion to the garish thing as the light danced over its uneven surface. It was designed to look like a sinister, phantomlike skull sans the lower jaw as the veil came in under the fanged row of teeth and anchoring underneath them.

She shivered as she could, but didn't really care to, imagine him coming at her in the dark of night. The visage of a vengeful spectre seemingly floating in the shadows.

"If you think I look strange, you should see yourselves through my eyes." The man chuckled, a deep rumble like tumbling rocks in a cave interrupting her musings.

Louise jerked her head forward, a slight heat rising on her cheeks.

"I-I suppose we would."

As they joined the gathering, a sudden impulse tugged at her. Without really knowing why herself, she turned to her looming companion.

"Could you remove your headgear?"

The stranger looked at her, as unreadable as ever. After a few seconds of thought, he shrugged and began to undo the latches anchoring his veil to his vest. Then he reached in under the veil, and after a brief tug, he pulled the helmet up and off of him.

Louise had half expected him to look as garish underneath as his garments did, or at least she thought he'd be a bit on the older side.

But looking back at her was a young man, somewhere around his twenties, with long light brown hair tied into a tight knot in his neck and a pale face with hard yet definitely not garish features. Though it was the eyes that took her by surprise. Deep set and a forest green with a thin ring of hazel around the pupil that seemed to stare straight into her very core.

"My, my. Perhaps I was wrong about other parts of the chant as well." Zerbst said, giving the stranger an appraising look. A flare of anger shook Louise from her stupor, and she regarded the stranger with focused determination again.

"Please restrain yourself, miss Zerbst." Colbert droned in a tired voice. "Now, miss Vallére, if you would please finish the ceremony."

"R-Right." Louise steadied her breath. As she raised her wand, something akin to instinct overtook her. An impulse that broke upon her like waves upon a rock, directing her with indomitable force.

"My name is Louise Francoise Le Blanc de La Valliére. Pentagon that governs the five powers, give this person your blessing and make him my familiar spirit." Now she felt it, the surge of mana rippling through her entire being. Much to her surprise, it seemed that the stranger too was overwhelmed by the potent forces of the spell.

He dropped to a knee before her, as if in a dream although his eyes were stern and unflinching. Then he drew his knife and his pistol and held them crossed across his chest.

"I am Andreas Nordstam, Kingslayer and warrior of the Norse. I pledge myself to you, scion of the Valliére, as your sword and shield." He stowed his weapons, his movements mechanical and without though or intent.

And then, as much to her surprise as the magi around her, she stepped forward. A collective gasp rose from the crowd as she took his face in her hands, leaned in, and kissed him.

* * *

I can honestly say that what had just happened was beyond _anything_ I had ever imagined. The moment she raised her wand it was like I could, little by little, peer into the very fabric of her being. What made her, Louise, _her_.

As much as the force of the spell compelled me, that unnatural surge of power coursing through me, I found that I did not _want_ to resist.  
The person I saw in front of me was worthy of my service. I was _meant_ to serve her…

At least that was what I thought in that rapturous state. As soon as our lips parted however, I regained my senses. _Really, 'warrior of the Norse'? Ouch, couldn't say that again with a straight face_. And wondered just what the _flying fiddling fuck_ I had just agreed to.

I have always believed that promises and oaths have meaning and that breaking them is among the most dishonorable things you can do.  
Suffice to say; I don't go around promising things left and right. I've more vices than I care to keep track of, but if there's one thing I won't give up it is being a man of my word. This of course meant I was now royally fucked.

Louise was still only a few centimeters from my face. Her fine cheeks were flustered, her delicate lips still parted.  
Her wide and shocked eyes; glistening rose quartz sparkling with life and emotion, were still locked in mine. Her hair hung in fragrant curtains around my face.

Hey, I suppose there are worse fates. And since my prior responsibilities are literally a world away…

Suddenly, the world was on fire. And someone screamed. Maybe I did, I couldn't tell. Then it stopped.

I was lying on stone, that much I could tell, as I struggled to get on my feet. I felt as though I'd been electrocuted (since I'd once grabbed a cattle-fence as a kid, I was familiar with the sensation).

Around me I saw, not a cave as I'd somehow expected, but a vast hall stretching out farther than I could see in both directions.  
In front of me, roughly fifty meters down the hall, there were a number of thrones flanked by burning braziers.  
The hall was lined with massive gilded columns and between each column stood a large pedestal about two and a half meters tall, some of which had a large statue on top of them.  
The statues appeared in irregular intervals and the vast majority of the pedestals seemed to be without one. The floor and walls were a black marble, poorly lit by small ornate lanterns attached to the columns. As for the ceiling, it was so high as to be shrouded in complete darkness.

With really only one place to go, I began walking toward the thrones, wondering just when the hell all this craziness was going to end…

* * *

**Author's Addendum;**

**I was asked about the design of the mask in the prior chapter and I think I made it pretty clear in this one. But if you're still having a hard time imagining it, dear reader, then my advice is; think Mordor style.**


	3. Holding Aloft The Legacy Of The Dead

**Author's Note:**

**And on to the next chapter! This one will be considerablty longer than the previous ones, since it deals with a lot more plot.**

**I'm trying to keep somewhat in tandem with the events of the anime and its episodes, but they're acting more like guidelines than margins when I'm writing this fic. Mostly because Andreas and Saito are _very_ different from each other and that difference will have a defining impact on the plot.**

**Before we begin, I'd like to extend a thank to everyone whom have take the time to read and review my piece. It is much appreciated, I assure you.**

* * *

My steps made an uncanny echo as I approached the assembly of thrones set upon the square platform in front of me. The braziers illuminating the thrones stood at each corner of the platform; giving an ample, ever dancing, source of light.

I could already make out the details, and as I studied the uncanny scenery before me I became increasingly unnerved. Not to mention increasingly puzzled.

There seemed to be an order to the arrangement of thrones. The platform rose by steps with a single throne at the lowest level, three thrones at the second level and single throne set in the middle of the third and final level of the platform. All of which were facing me.

The topmost throne was by far the least ornate, being a simple black stone seat with a high back side, but seemed the most important _because_ of its lack of embellishments.

The three thrones arrayed at the second level were its opposite in terms of adornments. To the left side, my left that is, stood a golden throne that shone with a reddish lustre as the light from the braziers danced across its surface. It seemed carved as to look as though made entirely of fire.

The middle throne was, like the topmost one, made of a tar-black stone. But where the topmost one was all straight and smooth surfaces, this one was carved to look as though made of a constantly moving fog or shadow. As the braziers cast their light upon it, the way it was carved gave an eerie illusion of movement to it.

The third and right throne was made from a reddish stone I couldn't identify nor say I'd ever seen one like it. It looked almost organic in its texture and was carved to look as though it was made of liquid frozen solid, captured in movement. _Damn… it actually looks like blood_.

Closest to me, on the first level, was a single throne made from a dull dark grey stone. It looked weathered, showing numerous cracks and dents in the stone, but seemed to radiate some sort of power or energy. Filling the air with that dry ozone smell of a lightning storm. Of course, I couldn't be sure that it was in fact the source of the power I felt. However the hundreds, maybe thousands, of glowing trails of crimson runes carved into it made it my best bet.

Perhaps more importantly; the runed throne was not empty.

* * *

She could read her own surprise from the green orbs so close, _too close_, to her. Louise didn't know what to do with herself, wanting to simultaneously sink into the earth and run away in her embarrassment. _I kissed him! Founder, I kissed a commoner. In front of everyone!_

Her fingers squeezed her wand so tight her knuckles turned white, all the while grappling with both her emotions and the aftershock of the spell. Her mana still rippled and rolled like an ocean in a storm inside of her, threating to make her knees buckle. Which, she thought too herself, was another thing she'd have to ask Colbert about. The other students had barely been fazed by casting Summon Servant, as if it had been no less taxing than a simple levitation spell. Something was indeed very… _off_, about this.

Suddenly, a flash of pain in forest green, and Andreas' eyes rolled back into his skull as he jerked backwards and away from her. Louise could do little but stare, horrified, as his mouth opened wide in a silent scream while his writhing form was engulfed in pitch-black flames.

* * *

I instinctively reached for my gun as I spotted the figure sitting on the throne and almost rolled my eyes as I found that it was missing from my belt.  
Along with my knives or any of my equipment. _Of course, that would have made things too easy, wouldn't it_?

Nevertheless, I rolled my shoulders and flexed my fingers, readying myself to fall back on the weapon I always had; namely myself.

As I got closer, some ten meters away, I was jarred to see that what I'd mistaken for a corpse was staring at me intently.  
The same red glow as that of the runes on his throne glowing faintly from within its eyeless sockets.

The figure looked like, well, a corpse. It wore a badly burned mess of rags and charred armor, melted to the point of having fused with the body in some places.  
As if the poor bastard had been hosed down with a flamethrower. However, judging from how desiccated and nigh mummified it looked, whatever had happened to it happened long ago. _Ages_ ago, even. If I were to use one word to describe it, it'd be _ancient_. Its gaunt, lipless face was following my every move.  
With a sense of resigned exasperation, I simply added it to the mental list I was keeping on all the weird shit that had happened to me today.

I couldn't help but shiver though as its jaw creaked open; dry and exposed tendons straining.

"And so… another comes. To carry the mantle of Maktalfr, and I its curse…" The skeletal form spoke, in a breathless, grating voice that seemed to come from everywhere around me. Howling like a dry desert wind through the hall, leaving haunting whispers to echo in its wake. I said nothing.

"Hmm." The figure grated in a ponderous tone. "I know thee well, _scion of the Norse_. The spell leaves nothing hidden. Nothing unknown. Your entire existence is laid bare before me, as it must be. But now is the time for questions. Ask, and know, before the mantle is placed upon thy shoulders."

Again, my head spun with questions. I tried to collect myself, and distill my questions down to what I actually needed to know. This… _creature_, had no obvious intent to attack me. I assumed that it and this place was connected to my becoming Louise's familiar somehow. And I was willing to bet that whatever this _thing_ was rambling about had something to do with finalizing that process. _And_ causing me a great deal of trouble.

_Whatever, I'm not getting out of this now_. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I thought.

"Very well. What is this place? And what are you?"

"This…" The creature made a slow, creaking gesture to encompass the surroundings. "Is the Hall of the Damned. And the… rmm… I suppose you can call it a nexus, for the arcane construct that enables both our roles. You are right to assume that this is part of the Call Familiar spell. Or _Summon Servant_ as they call it these days.  
Things are ever changing, after all. Mm. Hrm." The creature seemed to lose itself in thought, the air hissing and mumbling around us as it did. Suddenly it sat up straighter in its throne, much to the audible discomfort of its frail body. The eerie light of its sockets burrowed into me. "_I_ am the Cursekeeper, Faterobber and weaver of calamity. But what you ask, though you do not know, is who I _was_. What name I surrendered to oblivion."

"…If it's not too much trouble." I said in an even tone, suppressing copious amounts of sarcasm. The creature emanated a rattling sound vaguely resembling a chuckle.

"My name was Lorcan. Once a priest of Nergal in ancient Cuth, betrayal led me to truth and the realm your master calls 'Halkeginia'. There I met a man whom I would know as a brother; Brimir, a sorcerer who was my equal in power and talent. Together we sought to aid our fellow man and purge him of the savagery and barbarism that kept him in suffering. But time and time again all we had built was razed, and with each failure Brimir grew more bitter and full of hate. For he could not see that every time our creations burned, their essence lived on as embers in the hearts of men. Brimir saw only the savagery of humanity and eventually turned to using his power to become a tyrant, intending to force mankind to become as he wished.  
His madness grew worse, and in his hubris he claimed godhood, and declared his ways holy. I knew then that my brother was truly gone and rallied my followers to war. For Brimir branded all who did not serve him and his idea of order as heretics, worthy only of an agonizing death.

The war raged for centuries, with neither side coming close to victory. Ultimately, Brimir was consumed by his madness. In a sense, I was too.

Brimir sought to make himself eternal, to lock his soul and consciousness in a cycle of reincarnation so that he would rule this realm eternally. I had long studied the subject of immortality and life after death, an art which you would perhaps call 'necromancy', and before the war we had often shared our theories and work with each other.  
Much to my despair, Brimir now put this knowledge to use in his own mad quest for godhood. However, the nature of our magics had always been incompatible and Brimir's efforts ended in disaster.  
His mind was destroyed and his soul shattered and latched on to the Call-, hrm, Summon Servant spell. When I found him and realized what he'd done, I could not know if his madness had seeped into the very weave of his spell and thusly doomed the realm to suffer his mad specter eternally.  
All I could do was to use what I had learned and cast the spell that sealed my fate. And so the role of Maktalfr came to be. An eternal nemesis, to guard against the corruption of my lost brother." The ancient mage stopped talking, sagging in his seat as if the act of speaking had exhausted him.

"So, essentially I'm here to make up for _your_ mistake? Bloody great…" I didn't even try to hide my frustration."I seem to be asking this a lot today but why am I here? And what does this 'mantle' of yours mean, practically speaking?"

"Yes…" Lorcan spoke, wearily. "Know that the menace of Brimir would not be limited to Halkeginia alone, should it run unchecked. You are here to guard against that; to strike down those who carry his taint and ensure that the Voidbearers he created do not perpetuate his tyrannical legacy. Yours is the task to bring salvation through damnation. _In times like these, it is great evil that best serves the greater good_, after all, wouldn't you say?

As you are now, you would be at a… _disadvantage_ in fulfilling your role, which is why the mantle of Maktalfr was made to empower its bearer. The nature of this power depends on you entirely. _It_ will be, what _you_ are. No two Maktalfr have ever been the same in this. Now, what else would you ask before you take on the mantle?"

"Well… Since I apparently don't have a choice in this, it hardly matters, does it?" I grumbled, more to myself than to the ancient sorcerer in _front_ of me. "Who are the Voidbearers? Is there something in particular I have to do or is this just some kind of guard-duty thing?"

"They are mages born talented in the fifth element of this worlds' magic; Void. Coincidentally, this was Brimir's element as well. Brimir's soul coalesced into four aspects. These aspects would be introduced into a host through the Summon Servant spell. Thus, in order to contain his legacy, I made it so that there would never be more than four magi born with the void at any one time. Five, if you include your master. After all, I had to work within the confines of his spellcraft. A taxing endeavor, to be sure… The Voidbearers are easily identified by having human familiars, as it was Brimir's wish to dominate mankind."

"And how are you any different?" The words, along with a good portion of contempt, rolled off my tongue before I could stop them. _Crap. Go ahead, piss off the all-powerful sorcerer… Idiot._

Lorcan fell silent for a good two minutes before answering.

"It is true that those chosen for the mantle do not choose themselves. Because of this, I carry the burden of blood. _I_ carry your sins. Thus is my role that I be enslaved and bound upon this throne; undying and unliving, so that your soul need not suffer a fate you never chose. Such is the sacrifice required. Such is the price of utmost tyranny. You will be bound by your role, and when your purpose is fulfilled you will be free. But my purpose will be fulfilled only when Brimir's legacy is undone in its entirety.  
When that day comes, my only reward will be _oblivion!_" The desiccated sorcerer stared at me with eyes flaring with power as his voice, which had risen to a storm, died down. Then he slumped back tiredly, a haunting howl echoing faintly through the hall. "You may find solace in your role in time. You are chosen for you master just as much as she is chosen for you, after all."

"So the way I saw her back then…" I muttered to myself, remembering the state in which the spell had put me prior to swearing my, hrm, _servitude_ to Louise. I looked up to find Lorcan studying me intensely.

"But of course…" His dry rattle biting like ice in the air." You are attuned to the Dark, after all. As I was… What you experienced in that moment was the clarity of absolute truth, brought on by the binding of your beings. You saw her as she truly were. A rare occurrence. Hopefully you will see her as such again. No one ever stays the way they are after all.

As for the details of your task… The current generation of Voidbearers have been compromised, with one or more of them having been corrupted. It will be your task to eliminate all who carry Brimir's taint. When you face them, your role will allow you clarity in this."

_Great, more riddles_. "Right. Well, I think I'm done with the questions. Can we get this whole thing done so I can get back to _some_ semblance of normality?"

"As you wish. Will you accept the role bestowed upon thee, Andreas Nordstam?" Lorcan's voice grew to a roaring storm once more as the power emanating from his frail form grew exponentially. The runes on his throne _burning _with power_._

I took a deep breath, straightened up and steeled myself. "I will."

"Then I name thee… _Maktalfr_!" The power fluctuated, concentrated and then surged into me; a hellish torrent of red lightning wreathed in tar-black flames that burned like electricity and acid running rampant through my veins.  
I would have screamed, louder than I'd ever screamed before in my whole life, but the pain was so intense that my lungs wouldn't work. Luckily, it only lasted for a few seconds. But it might as well have been years.

I staggered back, a slight burning sensation lingering in my every nerve as my muscles twitched uncontrollably, forcing me to slump to my knees.  
Then, a sensation so strange I couldn't find a word for it overwhelmed me. It was a sensation of…_ growing_. As if that which made me _me_ grew.  
Then empowerment. Like an adrenaline rush but in a spiritual sense.

A sense of overwhelming power overtook me, along with a dark laughter that rolled out of me as I watched my hands twist and morph along with myself into something nightmarish. Cracks of a hellish fiery glow burst open and closed as my skin ripped and reformed to become monstrous, thick hide and carapace.  
The transformation continued for a few minutes, until finally it was done. Steam rose from my flesh as I stood up, straightening up into my new full height, towering several meters over the undead sorcerer.

I took a deep breath, felt it rumble in my chest, and let the air rip out in ear-shattering triumphant roar. Leathery wings spreading and my entire being ablaze with eldritch power. The feeling wasn't just good… it was _amazing_.

I looked down at the undead sorcerer below me, who was now dwarfed by my new form.

"What… happened?" My voice, which had depth to it before, now came out in a deep, thunderous rumble that reverberated through the hall. Lorcan leaned forward, tapping his chin with a bony finger as he studied me with interest.

"Truth. See, true power comes from true strength. The mantle was made to amplify and give form to the innermost _nature_ of its bearer's true power, thus the ever differing result. Next, it forges it into an image of _your_ idea of self and power. Before, I mentioned that you were attuned to the Dark, did I not? Mm. Yes, I believe I did." I let Lorcan slip into his contemplations again, as I was busy still marveling at my new form.

"Hrm. Mrm. Before you were summoned, that attunement, that _talent_ was so negligible that you would most likely have gone about your entire live without ever becoming aware of it. Nonetheless, it was _there_; interwoven with the innermost fabric of your very being. That set you apart. And it seems to have been amplified to a vast degree along with your essence. As for the shape it took, I believe you know yourself well enough to have the answer already… I believe the mantle will suit you well…" Lorcans voice took on an amused, almost mirthful tone. "… _Demon_."

_Demon_? The word echoed in my mind, forcing me to search myself for an answer. And to be honest… It had been _years_ since I'd felt any kinship with the people around me or even with my very species as a whole. I knew this already, I did, but… No. This was, in all its absurdity, right. This was the face of who I was and the path I had chosen. I'd left my humanity behind as a sacrifice so that I could become strong enough to fight for what I believed in and what my people _deserved_. _If it makes me a monster, then so what? I had to do it, _someone_ had to do it_.

I held a now more obviously monstrous hand in front of me. The thick hide in its palm and the inside of its fingers had the same mix of colors as the rest of my hide; wine red with spots and splotches of rusty brown in varying shapes and sizes. The top of my hands and arms was covered in the same black carapace that formed a reptilian-looking natural armor on my back running from the forehead of my horned head to the tip of the thick, muscular tail trailing behind me. The carapace also covered my shins, adding considerable protection. Each finger ended in a relatively short but strong and robust claw. Opening and closing my hand, I felt as though I could shatter solid stone with it. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply.

_I am what I am. I am _who_ I am. Now more than ever. Maktalfr or no, I will still fight. The war I declared will not end until I do. Come on, Andreas. Do what you've always done; survive, adapt and assault. Cut away what drags you down and weld on whatever you need._

Acceptance, as well as a renewed sense of purpose washed over me. With a huff and a shake of my now horned head, I stood as straight as my body allowed and crossed my arms over my chest.

"How do I get back?" Somehow I managed to unsettle myself with the low thunder of my new voice. _That_ would take some getting used to.

"I will send your spirit back to your masters' presence." Lorcan rattled, a serious of creaks and mumblings emanating from his wizened frame as he slowly stood and walked over to stand before the space in between the two nearest columns. Despite his hunched and broken appearance, the old mage exuded a terrifying amount of power as he made an intricate one-handed gesture. A black, swirling maelstrom of energy appeared, and grew to span from one column to the next.

"My spirit?" I asked, stomping up beside him somewhat awkwardly. As if I was getting used to a new pair of boots.

"Yes. Physically you have been with your master this whole time and though some time will have passed; when you return, no obvious outward change will have occurred. At least, that is what the weave tells me. You will have access to this form as well. It is of great importance though, that you remember that your power is _not_ infinite. Think of it as a muscle; there is only so much strain it can endure, even with training. Initially, shapeshifting will likely be extremely taxing. With practice, however, I see nothing that would hinder you from accessing your inner form and the arcane power it possesses. But you are not to be my apprentice; I am only here to impart your role and carry its utmost burden." He extended a skeletal arm to point at the dark portal in front of us. Managing to look very… _reaperesque_, in the process. "Your purpose awaits."

Eyeing the portal, an image from my childhood surfaced, eliciting a grating chuckle.

"I should ask Blizzard if they'll have me in their next 'Diablo' game. The royalties would come in handy." Lorcan neither replied nor moved, and I didn't feel like explaining myself. _Damn sack of bones probably already know anyway_.

After taking a last moment to bask in just how powerful my demonic shape felt, I lumbered forward and through the swirling portal. Allowing its inky blackness to swallow me.

* * *

It had been some time since ceremony. The bright of day had been replaced by the soft sheen of moonlight, and for the hundredth time, or so she would believe, Louise found herself casting an anxious glance at the unconscious form of her supposed familiar.

After that whole debacle on the academy grounds, she'd had him carried to her quarters where she'd prepared bedding for him. Said bedding was actually a pile of hay, but in all fairness she hadn't exactly taken into consideration that she'd summon a _human_. And she'd been too upset, anxious and embarrassed to think clearly enough to have it replaced. At the time wanting nothing more than to hide away from her sneering and laughing classmates. She sighed and put down the book she'd been reading, or trying to read, on the small desk next to her armoire and got up to study him. Again.

He looked as though he was sleeping. A state he'd been in ever since those uncanny black flames had died down. Whatever was causing him pain apparently ending. She'd asked her teacher about it, but Colbert had no real answers to give. Being as perplexed about the strange magic at work as herself.

After magically making sure that her familiar had not suffered any bodily harm that required healing, Colbert had removed Andreas' left glove, finding a set of runes on the top of his hand. Unsurprisingly her teacher had been more attentive than her, and had seen how the flames seemed to gather into the young man's hand as they died down.

Colbert had quickly put the glove back on. Stating that being manhandled once a day may be refreshing, but twice was just plain unhealthy.

Louise knelt down next to her familiar and absent-mindedly brushed an errant strand of his brown hair aside. _He is certainly a fearsome familiar. I suppose there are times when such a thing might be useful._ An almost proud smile ghosted across her lips before vanishing.

_But human all the same_. Louise cradled her chin in her hands, utterly morose as she thought of the dreaded moment when she would have to explain this to her family. The thought of her sister Eleonora's fury in particular making her shiver.

"You should smile more often. It suits you." A strangely melodious rumble drifted up to her, stirring her from her thoughts.

Louise gasped, and promptly fell on her backside in surprise.

"You! Y-you're awake!"

The strange familiar regarded her with a sideways glance as he yawned and stretched. His young master looking both embarrassed and surprised at the same time.

"Yeah. Feels like I've been sleeping for days though. How long was I out?"

Louise composed herself quickly and sat up decidedly more straight and dignified.

"You've been unconscious since the Summon Servant ceremony, which was held this morning. It is now well unto evening, as you can see." She made a graceful gesture toward the window.

"Uhuh." Her familiar propped himself up on his elbows and looked around. Inspecting her quarters from where he lay.

As much as she was trying to establish a master-servant relationship with him, part of her felt guilty. This was not some animal or magical creature she'd summoned after all but a thinking, feeling human being. Forcibly taken from his home, wherever that was. The thought had crossed her mind a few hours ago and she realized that she'd have hated being in his situation.

When he had attacked her he'd pretty much scared the daylights out of her, but later she had found that she could hardly blame him for his hostile reaction.

She swallowed down her pride, well, most of it at least and looked her familiar in the eye.

"Are you hurt, familiar? You looked like you were in a lot of pain at the ceremony." She asked, genuinely concerned. He on the other hand, turned to her with a baffled expression.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that? Along with a damn sincere apology? Sorry, by the way."

Taken aback by the sudden shift Andreas' change of attitude, Louise gave him an incredulous look. _O, well._ _If he's accepted his lot then it's for the better._

"I'm fine. But you didn't answer my question."

"I'm _fine_." He mirrored her answer with a wry smile. Then his gaze turned introvert and with a grunt he started patting down his equipment. "Where's my helmet?" He asked, brow furrowed.

"It's right there." Louise pointed at the helmet, conveniently sat next to him. He turned and picked it up with a half chuckle, half grunt.

"The thing right in front of you is always the thing you miss, right? Oh, and Louise, wasn't it? Don't call me 'familiar' either. I have a name after all." Sitting up cross-legged, he started tinkering with the garish helmet, seemingly checking it for any damage.

"Andreas, was it not?" A raised eyebrow and a sideways smirk was all the response she got. She sighed and stood up. Relieved, she felt the fatigue she hadn't allowed herself to feel before wash over her.

"What a day…" She muttered.

* * *

"You're telling me. You couldn't have settled for a cat or something?" I chuckled and looked up from my inspection.  
I was relieved to find that no one had messed with my helmet or any of my gear; the thought of one of these primitives accidentally pulling the pin on a grenade giving me a profound feeling of unease.

It did take me a moment to register what I was looking at though.

"I was hoping for a dragon or a griffon, actually." Louise answered in a tired monotone, her French-tinged accent coming off as very…_ cute_, to my ears. Which only worsened the fact that she was standing in front of me wearing nothing but a thin, frilly pink nightgown and panties. White ones. With pink embroidery in the shape of rose vines. _Dude, you're not fifteen. Get your shit together._

"I'm going to bed. Wash these for me." She said, and dumped an armful of clothes practically on my face. Any arousal I might have felt, which I wouldn't admit to having had even with a gun in my face, evaporated in an instant. At first I just sat there, fuming with anger. _She smells damn good though_.

Then I reigned in my emotions, brushed off the bundle of clothes and stood up, fixating her with the most scalding glare I could muster.

"Let's make a few things clear, _mistress_. I may not be here by choice, but I sure as hell did not agree to be your slave or servant. I'll protect you, ensure that your needs are cared for and even kill on your command but I am _not_ going to be ordered around to do your chores or satisfy every idiotic whim of yours. And I am sure as _hell_ not sleeping on a pile of hay like a damn animal!" My voice had risen to almost a roar as I'd lost my composure. It may have been my imagination, but I think I heard a bit of that demonic thunder slip into my voice.

Louise stared at me, wide eyed but with her mouth opening and closing as she seemed to be bursting with outrage. Which just poured fuel on my fire as I realized that she had simply expected me to fall in line after all. Pleasantries be damned.

I threw the bundle of clothes angrily across the room, then turned on my heels and marched out of the room. I slammed the door behind me so hard that I swear I heard a _crunch_ of splintering wood. Apparently I was stronger than before.

* * *

Louise stared at the badly abused door to her quarters, her ears still ringing from Andreas' outburst.

Having no one to vent her own outrage on, she instead put her mind to work. _Founder, I'm such a fool_.  
She realized more or less immediately that she'd just dropped a figurative fireball on their already strained relation.  
She'd forgotten, again, the fact that he was not a normal familiar. Not to mention that he had seemed annoyingly so proud and headstrong from the very beginning. Expecting him to perform the menial tasks and chores normally expected from a familiar or servant was of course out of the question.

She remembered him having mentioned that there was no aristocracy where he came from. As unimaginable as that was, it would explain how he'd taken such grave insult from being treated as subservient.

She sighed and rubbed her temples before sliding out of bed and putting her clothes back on.

No doubt her fellow mages would see him as just another commoner and set him off even more.

She had to rein this in before it escalated.

* * *

Without any plan other than to _get the hell out_ I stomped down the small corridor. Judging from the doors lining it and the spiraling stone stairs in front of me I'd say I was in a dormitory, most likely situated in a tower. A cool breeze came in from the open window at the other end of the corridor, aiding me in cooling my head. As my head cleared, I realized that I'd felt some of my new power stir just now. It would seem that strong emotions would trigger it unconsciously.

I filed that particular thought away to be examined later, making my way down the stairs and wanting little else than a bit of fresh air and peace of mind.

The stairs ended at another corridor looking much the same as the one where Louise's room was. This one however, was not empty.

"… I'm good at making a sufflé, too." A brunette in a brown cape said in a lovesick voice, making big eyes at the blond boy in front of her.

"I'd love to have a taste of that." The blonde answered, putting an arm around her shoulders while striking an overly dramatic pose. Waving that utterly ridiculous rose in his hand in the air. _Easy there, Hamlet._

"Really?" The girl clasped her hands, eyes positively _sparkling_.

"Of course, Katie. I would never lie to you." I rolled my eyes as the flamboyant blonde I now recognized from the Summon Servant ceremony kept spouting one-liners from the 'Player's Handbook for Dummies'.

"… Sir Guiche…"

"There's never a hidden side to my affection for you…"

"Oh, please, just give it a rest already." I grumbled as I walked by. _Man, he's making me sick_.

"Ah, the plebeian familiar that Louise the Zero summoned." Guiche, as his name was, frowned at me. His less than pleasing way of addressing me made my eye twitch.

"Oh, right. At today's ceremony. Even us first year's heard about it." The brunette cast a curious look after me as I passed them.

"He caused all kinds of trouble, really. And then he fell unconscious. He was so heavy I had to levitate him up to her quarters." The flamboyant mage narrowed his eyes at my back.

"Hold it, commoner!" He called out in a sharp tone that betrayed that he was used to being obeyed.

"Fuck off." I promptly retorted, not even slowing my stride. Suddenly I was treading air as I hovered up toward the ceiling.

* * *

Louise's breath caught in her throat as she came down the stairs, seeing Guiche levitating a snarling and flailing Andreas.

"As a commoner having caused trouble for a noble, I believe you owe me your _sincerest_ apology." The blonde mage said with a superior smile, lazily waving the ensorcelled rose he used instead of a wand. Making Andreas tumble around helplessly in the air. Or so it would seem. Louise hurried over to her classmate.

"Please put him down, I'll apologize on his behalf! He's foreign; he doesn't know how to behave properly!" She pleaded.

If she could have dispelled the levitation she would have done so herself. However, she was shamefully so aware of her inability to do so. Thus her pleading.

The snarl of her agitated familiar turned into an outright growl.

"Well…" Guiche began, before he was interrupted.

"Are there any doctors or healers in this place?!" Andreas barked. His eyes darkening and giving Guiche a _deadly_ look.

All three of the present magi were taken aback by the randomness of the question.

"Of course there is. This _is_ a school for mages after all." Louise said, with a puzzled frown. Which turned into a look of horror as realization dawned on her.

"No!..." She screamed but to no avail as Andreas hand went for his belt and with a glint of steel and the swiftness of a striking viper flung a knife at Guiche.

When the small but wickedly sharp blade embedded itself in the blond mage's wand-hand, he dropped the rose, ending the spell. With surprising agility for so large a person, Andreas turned his body mid-air like a cat as he fell. As soon as his feet touched the floor he lunged forward, too fast for Louise to even take the mere two steps needed to block his path, and swung his right fist with deadly momentum.

The blow connected to Guiche's slender torso and with an audible _thump_ and a loud crack of breaking bones he was lifted off his feet.

Hurtling backwards a good few meters, the mage smacked down hard on the marble tiles of the floor and rolled, limp as a ragdoll, to the very end of the corridor. There he lay unmoving. Most likely, and perhaps luckily, unconscious.

"Guiche!" The brunette ran over to the stricken mage, tears flowing freely from her eyes.

Louise stared, horrified and mouth agape, at the looming giant she'd summoned. His teeth bared and his features contorted into a bestial mask of bloodlust and ill intent as his every heavy breath carried with it a rumbling growl.

"M-Monster…"

* * *

The blow, despite its ferocity, had been carefully measured. Of course that didn't diminish the fact that I wouldn't have minded tearing that self-absorbed little shit limb from limb. But being an insufferable prick did not warrant a death sentence. If the medical staff of this place were worth their position, Guiche would live.  
A few broken ribs and a concussion wouldn't kill the mage if they were properly treated.

The word didn't register, but its meaning was not lost on me as I heard Louise's voice come out in a trembling whimper next to me.

The look I saw on her was one I was used to seeing. One I'd even reveled in from time to time. But now, for the first time in my life, it felt _wrong_.  
Her wide, pink rose colored eyes glistened with the threat of tears. Her tiny fingers shook as they clutched her wand while she held her other hand tightly balled up against her heaving chest. As she shied away from me, I felt a painful pang in my chest. The bloodlust coursing through me drained away. Confusion and… something _else_ taking over.

"Louise?" I asked in question directed to us both, an unbearably tight sensation forming in the pit of my stomach.  
I didn't care about the fight we'd had anymore, I didn't care to even _remember_ it. I just wanted her to stop looking at me like that. I needed the feeling to _stop_.  
I needed _her_ to stop. Hesitantly I reached out a hand toward her. She backed away from me further, whipping her wand up to shakily aim at a spot in between my eyes.

"It's... it's okay, I won't hurt you. Just…" I trailed off as I was unsure of how or even what I wanted to ask of her.

"Y-you killed him!" The brunette cradling Guiche's head in her lap started to _wail_ as Louise yelled.

"No, I didn't. I gave him a couple of broken ribs and a concussion. If your 'healers' or whatever you call them are worth a damn he'll be fine. In a few months."

Louise, still wary of me, ran over to the blond mage's battered form. After confirming that he was still breathing, her head snapped up to look at me with a much more preferable look of determination on her face.

"We have to get him to the infirmary!"

I shrugged. Now that the source of my discomfort was gone, I couldn't really care less.

"Just make him float over there then. I don't care."

The brunette looked at Louise pleadingly which, much to my surprise, caused my master to blush with apparent shame.

"… I can't." She muttered, grinding her teeth.

"Come again?" _If sir Fruitcake over there can do it then she should be able to do it too, right?_

"I can't! Alright! I can't cast Levitation!" My supposed master cast her head down, the strawberry blonde cascade of her hair obscuring her face as her cheeks flushed.

"Then what about you?" I asked the brunette. "You're a mage, too, right?"

"I…" Her sobbing voice hiccupped. "I don't know it very well yet. Bu-But I could try…" She got up, somewhat unsteadily, and started fumbling around for her wand.

"Oh, for the love of all things unholy…just _move_. Both of you." I stomped up, knelt down, and gingerly scooped up the unconscious mage. Then I turned toward the still blushing pinkette.

"Lead the way, then."

* * *

A lot of careful running and a few hours later they were back in Louise's room. The healer had assured us that Guiche looked a lot worse than he actually was faring.  
The healer had also claimed that he'd be up and about the very next day, albeit a bit bruised and sore. It would seem that magic had its uses after all.

Louise had called up a maid to bring an extra mattress and bedding to her room. Thankfully, I hadn't needed to ask her about that. Despite her, what I could only imagine as being degenerative, upbringing; Louise was evidently a lot more perceptive than her peers.

And now that we were alone again, a hint of that strange and uncomfortable sensation returned. _Guilt_. Realization and with it a surge of recognition suddenly dawned on me. _How long has it been since I felt guilt? It feels like ages ago._

I removed and set down my gear in an orderly and neat pile beside my mattress next to Louise's bed. Then I added my helm and armor to the pile. After a good stretch that elicited several _pops_ from my spine, I walked over to the small desk on the other side of the room and plopped myself down in the chair set in front it. I leaned back with a sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"What. A. Day."

"You're telling _me_." It would seem like my little master had found her modesty, as she had opted to drop the far curtain on her bed to change behind it. She emerged from behind it as she spoke; now wearing a longer, peach colored nightgown than the… _intriguing_ piece she'd worn before.

"Get your own lines." I chuckled. Offering her a tired, but genuine, smile.

Louise returned my smile with just a flicker of uncertainty. Then she stepped up to lean next to the window, closing her eyes as a soft breeze entered the room. Moonlight bathing her in its sheen.

She struck me as incredibly cute when she didn't have that stuck up, haughty expression plastered on her face. I got up to stand by the window as well. Looking out wordlessly as my eyes roamed over the grounds, the massive walls and towers of the Academy and lastly up to study the two alien moons.

"I'm sorry." The words just tumbled out of me. "I… I didn't mean to scare you. And if I can help it…" I turned to meet her questioning gaze, not really knowing why or what I was talking about myself. "… I don't ever want to see… to, uhm, do that to you again."

Her rosy orbs scrutinized me for a bit, before turning to look out of the window herself with a sigh.

"Founder, I hope not. I really thought you'd killed him you know."

"Yeah…"

It felt… peaceful, too look at her like this. It occurred to me that I hadn't once since I met her given any real thought to the color of her hair and eyes. At first, I'd just assumed it was just dye and contacts. However, if this world was in more or less medieval times then contacts were out of the question.

The only two remaining options was that it was either some weird naturally occurring oddity of this world or, if it was artificial, the work of magic.

"I have to ask. Were you born like this?"

"Like what?" Louise answered, offering me an arced brow and small frown along with the warning in her tone.

"Incredibly cute." _Noo, I did not just say that, did I?!_ I mentally facepalmed at my spontaneous cheesiness. _Come on, smooth this over_. "No, I meant your hair and eyes. Back where I come from, people don't have that color naturally."

"Oh." Louise features had made a complete overhaul at my unintended compliment and she was still blushing as she answered.  
"I-it isn't. Natural, I mean. Many noble families have had colors like these introduced in our lineages magically in the past. It's a way to distinguish us from… from, well, commoners." She looked up at me as if she was half expecting me to fly into a rage again at the mention of 'commoners'. She needn't have worried. I simply studied the characteristics in question with intrigue.

"I imagine… It might look strange to you. If this is not something practiced in your homeland, I mean." Her eyes shied away from my gaze as it fell upon her exotic orbs. She cleared her throat and looked out through the window again, fidgeting with her hands.

"No. I mean; strange, yes. But I… Think it suits you. Actually, I like it." _What the hell is wrong with_ _me? I haven't been this awkward with girls since I was a teenager. Besides, I'm kind of past _girls_ nowadays, aren't I?_

"I… See. Thank you." A blush and that kind of smile you make when you're unsuccessfully trying _not_ to smile graced her delicate features. We lapsed into a prolonged silence during which her fidgeting grew adorably worse.

"I'm sorry too, by the way." Now it was my turn to look puzzled.

"What for?"

"For calling you a… a monster."

Whatever atmosphere we had going on vanished. With a sigh I turned away from her and went for my mattress.

"It's alright. I can hardly fault you for speaking the truth, can I?"

I stripped down to my boxers and crawled into bed, a dreamless sleep claiming me almost instantly.

* * *

**Author's Addendum:**

**As per the little scuffle between Guiche and Andreas, I'd like to point out that Guiche is a young _boy_ of a thin and untrained build by mid-European standards.**  
**Andreas is a large young _man_ by Scandinavian standards, and even though he may not have actual military training, he's plenty used to fighting and his body have had to adapt to the circumstances of his background.**  
**Any fight between two people like that is going to be like watching a frontal collision between a Nissan Micra and a Humvee at full speed. Ugly, in other words.**  
**So Andreas doesn't need to be super strong or anything to deal some serious damage there.**

**Also, if you're too lazy to look it up; Nergal was a god worshipped in ancient Mesopotamia. So Lorcan is _old._**


	4. Breakfast In Tristain

**Author's Note:**

**Finally I'm getting some writing done.  
I apologize for the long wait and I'll take the opportunity to inform you, dear reader, that this story is indeed alive and kicking still.  
I'm just shit at updating.  
**

**Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, people. I hope you enjoy the continuation of this story.**

* * *

A breeze heralded the morning sun, bringing fresh air and birdsong into the room. The pinkette sleeping peacefully stirred from sleep, stretching and yawning as she sat up. After rubbing the morning crust from her eyes she blinked and looked around the room as if expecting to see some new piece of furniture there.  
Yet her room was the same as yesterday.  
Everything from the nightstand to her left, the screened-off washing area, the vanity and armoire in front of her bed to the small study area complete with a desk, chair and a small table was exactly the same as the day before.

Then, a deep breath followed by a huff coming from someone else in the room made her practically jump in her bed. The pinkette peered over the side of her bed; spying the large form of her sleeping familiar.

"That's right." She said sleepily. "I summoned you yesterday, didn't I?" Another huff and a muffled groan came from the young man but he was clearly still sound asleep. Louise realized that she was seeing more of him now than she ever had before. In truth, more than she'd seen of any man, and despite the heat rising in her cheeks seized to opportunity to study him further.

He was barely covered by the sheets, as he seemed to have partially kicked them off of him in his sleep, so she was granted a full view of everything but his left leg as he lay spayed out on his belly. Well, not _everything_. He did wear some foreign manner of black tight-fitting underclothing to cover up his privates.

The first thing she reflected upon was the many scars on his back and arms. She counted a dozen of them, wondering what kind of life he would have led to have received such scars. Most of them were situated on his back and were little more than small long healed pale lines. With the exception of one, rounded scar in his lower back that seemed to have healed worse than his other injuries. Thin puckered 'rays' of pinkish scar tissue flaring out from the edges of its little roundel, making it look almost like a sun. A single long scar ran also in a thin line along his right arm from wrist to elbow.

The excitement she'd felt gave way to pity and before she knew it she'd slid out of her own bed and was kneeling beside her familiar on his mattress. Gingerly caressing his scars with the tips of her fingers. _You must have been a soldier, as Colbert thought._ Part of her wanted to wake him up and ask him all about his scars and how he'd gotten them. She didn't though, because she also didn't want to bother him with such things.

She didn't want to see the peaceful expression on his face go away. The way his hair fell over his shoulders and curled around his face gave him an almost lionlike appearance. Now that the scowl constantly etched on his face was gone, Louise was surprised to find that she found him…_ pleasing_, to look at.  
_Louise Francoise Le Blanc de La Valliére! Stop ogling your familiar this instant!_ She chastised herself to no avail however, her eyes still resting on his face despite her embarrassment.

The way he looked now, it reminded her of the way he'd looked at her when he complimented her last night. The memory renewed the heat in her cheeks. But then she also remembered the moment afterward and her fingers stopped their tracing on his skin as a troubled expression settled on her fine features.

* * *

"… _For calling you a… a monster." Louise said with trepidation. An insistent little voice in the back of her head already protesting at the notion of her familiar being such as she had called him. A voice she could scarcely understand, given how briefly she'd known Andreas. As she looked up into to those piercing green eyes meeting hers with such comforting tenderness, however, she found herself a bit more understanding of it._

_As soon as the words left her though, a heavy shadow fell over his face. The haunted look on his face as he turned from her sent a chill running down her spine. _

"_It's alright. I can hardly fault you for speaking the truth, can I?"_

_The way his soulful eyes turned dead and cold made her heart feel like it was caught in a vice. Speechless and confused she'd watched as he'd wordlessly undressed and gone to bed. She'd spent the next half an hour staring out into the night, deep in her thoughts, before going to bed herself._

* * *

It took her a moment to react to the feeling of muscle moving under her touch. When she did, she found her gaze met somewhat blearily by her enigmatic familiar.  
She blinked and hastily removed her fingers from his skin. Her cheeks heating up like a furnace as she stood up stiffly and walked away.

* * *

"Good morning to you too." My eyes lingering on the flustered pinkette as she walked away with her chin all stuck up.

A light tickle on my back had roused me from sleep. I'd been surprised to find Louise sitting beside me with a ponderous look on her face.  
I'd found myself almost mesmerized by how cute she looked with her brows furrowed and her lips slightly puckered and pressed together in a look of intense concentration.

I shook my head as I reflected on how silly I was acting. It wasn't the first time I'd woken up to a pretty face. Or even the first time I'd woken up to having some girl take an interest in my scars. I'd never been bothered by it before and I damn well shouldn't be now. _Though bothered isn't really it. It's… I dunno_. My slight frustration escaped me in a huff, as I turned around to check my phone.

_It's only 7 am? Give me a break._ I flopped back on the mattress with a sigh. Surely my little master would let me sleep in a bit?

"…Hey."

_So much for that._

"What is it, my pink little morning hallucination?" I half opened one eye, offering the petite mage a smirk. Said mage, now dressed in what I assumed was her school uniform, was less than pleased. Unless glowering meant something else in this place.

"That would be _master_, to you!"

Evidently it did not.

"Alright then, _master_ pink morning hallucination. What is it?" I teased. I couldn't help myself really; she just looked so damned cute when she got all flustered and upset.

"Louise!" She yelled through gritted teeth.

"Yes, what about you?" I said in an oblivious tone. The smirk playing at the corner of my mouth belying my voice.

"You annoying…" Louise grumbled. "Just get up already. Or I won't… or you'll miss breakfast."

I chuckled and got up, stretched, and got dressed. Once I'd put my clothes and armor on, except for my helmet, I stood weighing my gun in my hand.

"Louise?"

My master grumbled something about stubborn familiars in the morning and glanced at me with an annoyed pout.

"What is it?"

"Just wondering about today's schedule is all."

"Well…" She put one hand on her hip while the other tapped a steady beat with her wand against her thigh. "All second years have a cleared schedule for today because of the Summon Servant ceremony. We're supposed to spend the day…" Suddenly she avoided eye-contact. "… bonding with our familiars." She finished the sentence mumbling. Seeming to have found a sudden interest in the floor.

There was no way I was passing this up.

"Well, we can always keep going where you left off just now." I winked at her, smoothing my voice a little bit. The reaction was priceless.

"Wha-!? Y-You! A-a-as if I would!"

Louise's face turned beet red as she stumbled over her words, staring at me with wide eyes and a look of utter embarrassment. She'd even taken a step back as if she thought I'd pounce on her.

I chuckled. The chuckle turning into a laugh and the laugh turning into a hearty howl as I clutched my stomach. Eventually I stopped laughing, wiping the tears of laughter from my eyes.

"Easy there, mistress." I said, a little out of breath. "I'm just joking. But assuming you're not intending to spend the day petting me, I suppose we should maybe find somewhere to talk after breakfast? I'm sure we both have a lot of questions. I sure do."

Louise _hmpfed_ and stuck her chin up in her usual dignified, proud demeanor.

"Y-yes. That does sound like what I had in mind. I need to talk to Professor Colbert as well about you; see if he's learned anything new."

"Who's Colbert?" I gave her a quizzical look.

"He's one of the teachers here at this school, as well as a respected scholar. You met him during the summoning."

"That bald guy I…" I trailed off, making a vague gripping gesture in the air.

"_Yes._"

"Ah… by the way, do you have like a safe or something I can store my gear in?"

"The drawers on my desk can be locked. Why?" Louise arced an eyebrow at me.

"Well, besides the fact that my things are irreplaceable here, there's also the fact that half of my equipment can kill if not handled properly. Besides, I don't need to go equipped for sabotage and assassination today, do I?"

"No, you certainly _do not_." Louise firmly answered and after some rearrangement offered me an empty drawer. She watched curiously as I stowed my gear.

Two magazines for my suppressed MP5, one empty, as well as the weapon itself. Four grenades; two smoke and two regular. An eight meters length of rope with a small grappling hook attached. One small packet of C4 explosive along with a remote detonation device. A small internally padded armored packet containing two small bottles of which one was filled with a potent poison and the other with a strong sedative. A taser loaded with fresh batteries and lastly; a USB-stick containing a whole host of viruses and a deployment program.

As I unloaded my gear the items felt more and more like treasures. I didn't know how half of them were made and I couldn't reconstruct or repair any of them should they get damaged somehow. I just used them; it hadn't been my job to tinker with them. It struck me that somewhere down the line I'd inevitably have to go local in terms of armor and weapons. _Oh joy…_

I was surprised to find that the drawer could actually hold all of my gear. I kept my knives though. As well as my phone, wallet and passport. Though I'd admit that the last things didn't make much sense bringing with me, I kind of felt naked without them.

Louise locked the drawer and before she could stow it away, I snatched the key from her hand and pocketed it.

"Hey!" She glared at me, agitation rising again.

"Hear me out. The stuff that's in there is _lethal_. Some of which could reduce us both to a smear on the wall if you'd gone about tampering with them. I'm not letting anyone else but me have free access to them and that includes you. Not to mention that this kind of technology isn't necessarily something this _world_ should have access to. This is absolutely non-negotiable."

A worried look passed over Louise's features. Her gaze flickering toward the drawer before it burrowed into mine. She was clearly expecting me to conform to a master-servant relationship with her. Let's just say I wasn't too keen on the idea. Especially when there were explosives involved.

The staring contest went on for a while; Louise fuming indignantly and I meeting her glare with steely resolve. Finally, Louise relented.

"Fine! But in return, you'll have to promise to be on your best behavior." She made a sharp turn, somehow managing to send her fragrant hair whipping at my face in the process, and went for the door. "And don't even _think_ about picking any fights. You've embarrassed me more than enough as it is."

I rolled my eyes and after a brief moment of deliberation left my helmet on the desk before following her.

"Whatever you say."

* * *

A great many things worried Louise as she descended the familiar stairs toward the main hall of the dormitory wing. She'd walked these stairs with her head full of worries many times before but now her thoughts were unintelligibly many; darting through her mind before she could grab a hold of them.

Firstly there were the social ramifications of having summoned a _human_ familiar. She imagined most would think she'd staged the whole thing and hired some thug to serve her. Glumly, she thought to herself that such a scenario would almost be preferable to this one; Andreas was infuriatingly defiant for a familiar. More so for a mere commoner. _Blasted familiar is as prideful as any noble._

Once more she'd be the laughing stock of the school. And Founder knows she was tired of that.

Even though his status as her familiar was verifiable by the mark on his hand she doubted that her family would approve. Once more she'd have to face their anger and disappointment. Or worse; their pity.

Then there was the ceremony. It was clear to her that it had not worked for her the way it had for her peers, despite its success. It could be that the act of binding a human as a familiar spirit had somehow warped the spell, she mused, but she found it unlikely. No, something else was at work here, and she didn't like it one bit.

The familiar itself, or rather; _himself_, was also a source of her worries. He'd hinted at being from another world than hers entirely and as preposterous as that may be she was finding it more and more likely. Even though he spoke Albionian, culturally he was clearly different from anything she knew. His belongings were of an obviously foreign make and some of the contraptions she'd seen before certainly looked more advanced than anything she'd seen or heard about. _Obviously he was a soldier_ _of some sort_, she thought. Why else would he be geared for battle? Or have that many scars.

Then there was the issue of his… _character_. He was intimidating, defiant, stubborn and dangerously proud. But once she'd treated him like an equal instead of a servant he'd been surprisingly, well, charming. She should probably make sure he was prepared to face her peers. Shuddering, she recalled the incident last night with the young Gramont. There were many mages who were like him, though she liked to believe that the vast majority of mages weren't.

She cast a glance over her shoulder. The lumbering form of her familiar was right behind her. _How can someone so large move so quietly? _

"Just so you know, most mages aren't like Gramont. The mage you… _met_ last night."

"I hope not." He rumbled. Louise sighed.

"Things… are a certain way here. You have to understand this and act accordingly. I can't have you assault everyone who treats you like a commoner when you clearly _are_ a commoner. What you do reflects on me as your master and bad behavior from your side puts me and my family to shame."

She felt a hand fall on her shoulder; stopping her with a firm but gentle grip. She spun about to face the owner of the hand, feeling her ire rise again, only to find that Andreas was not looking the least bit confrontational. In fact, he was smiling.

"I think I understand the basics of your culture; ours was the same once after all. Centuries ago the aristocracy ruled Europe, my home continent, much like they seem to do here. So I'm not going to go about beating people up just because they're a bunch of primitives…" As much as the new information intrigued her, having her peers and by association herself called 'primitive' was no less infuriating now than last time he'd said it. "… so don't worry. Unless they're giving me a legitimate reason to hurt them, I won't be starting any trouble. The only thing that really concerns me right now is you." His voice had softened as he spoke and despite the firmness of his gaze, there was gentleness to it.

"Me?" To her surprise, Louise found her agitation evaporate.

"Yes. We need to figure out who we are in this mess." Andreas pointed back and forth between them. Louise arced an eyebrow at him.

"I'm your master and you're my familiar. That is a _fact_ whether we like it or not. The proof is right there on your hand."

Her towering familiar sighed.

"I know that. Look, as long as you treat me as an equal, we'll be fine. I'm not asking you to think of me as such right away because I know it takes time to change one's views. Especially if they're values you've been born into and never thought to question. Bottom line; don't treat me like a servant and I'll serve you. Happily, even."

Louise contemplated his words. _I suspected as much_, she sighed inwardly. She'd already begun reevaluating their working relationship after last night and she knew they'd probably have to reach a compromise of sorts. All things considered, his suggestion wasn't unreasonable. The order of rule and servitude that governed Halkeginian society obviously didn't exist where he came from. If a state of equality had reigned for centuries in his world then the way things worked here must be hard to come to terms with. Louise filed away the added question of how his world's government worked for a later opportunity.

"Very well, Andreas. Now come, before we miss breakfast." Louise answered in a polite tone.

* * *

Say what you will about the people in it, but the Academy itself was impressive. As I followed my little master to the dining hall I took in the architecture of the place. I'd always been a sucker for old buildings and this was like walking through a late medieval castle as it would have been when people lived in it. I hummed in appreciation at the intricate engravings in the stone and the fine craftsmanship it must have taken to build a place like this.

My mistress was obviously deep in her thoughts, so I was left to my reverie as we made our way to our destination.

As we crossed the lawn and drew up on the steps to the main building I could hear the bustle and noise typical of a crowded cafeteria or as in this case; a dining hall.

The massive, thick wooden doors to the main building were wide open and mages in brown and blue capes and the occasional older mage I assumed were teachers were filtering in, casually chatting amongst themselves. Of course, I was just assuming that everyone who looked wealthy enough was a mage in this place. That and then there was the very _magey_ way some of them dressed. _If I see a Hogwarts crest in there then that's it; I'm off the crazy train._

Medieval times and magic aside; this was a school, and it very much had the overall vibe of one.

When we entered the dining hall itself the busy chatter dampened as dozens of heads turned to watch us. The casual noise turned to a loud buzz as the student started talking excitedly to each other.

Rumor must have spread fast of what happened with the Gramont boy. A smirk flickered in the corner of my mouth as the mages hurriedly turned their gazes elsewhere when I looked at them. _That's right you uppity little shits_.

Louise veered off to the rightmost row of tables where I guessed her classmates sat. I recognized a few of them from the ceremony. Her classmates acted much the same as the rest of the mages, except for a few. A curvaceous red haired girl was regarding me with a disapproving, haughty sneer while the thin, bespectacled blue haired girl beside her was peering at me curiously over her glasses.

Louise stopped beside a chair. It took me a second to make the connection since that kind of gentlemanly behavior wasn't something I was used to performing.

"You're supposed to-"

"I know, I know. Here." I pulled out the chair for her and she seated herself with a practiced ladylike grace. "Sorry." I added in for good measure.  
I plopped down on the chair next to her with a tired grunt and started to browse the various foods on the table.

Suddenly every pair of eyes around me was trained at me, my master's rose-madder orbs included.

I read surprise or outright shock in most faces around me. The same expression passed across Louise's delicate features as well, before they adopted the expression of someone who just mentally facepalmed herself. An irritated grumble escaped me in my exasperation.

"Of course. M-maybe we should have breakfast someplace else…" A touch of red blossomed on my master's cheeks.

"Let me guess; no commoner's allowed?"

"N-not at this table, no." Louise made a motion as to get up but I placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"Didn't we have this talk already?" I said, offering as diplomatic a smile as I could. Louise leaned in towards me a little.

"This isn't about what I think." She muttered so that only I could hear it.

"Of course it is. That's all anything ever is. Especially when it comes to societal norm and custom. Let's just eat. If anyone objects you can just sic me on 'em, alright?"  
I grinned and patted her shoulder before leaning back into my chair, grabbing the glass in front of me and holding it up to study its contents.  
Had I been on Earth its amber colour and the context would have me believe it was a juice. Here though, I couldn't be so sure. _Well, here goes_. I threw back the contents of the glass in one gulp and let it slosh around for a moment before swallowing.

_Huh_. It was a wine of some sort_. Not bad at all. A bit yeasty, and it does have a fruitier flavor to it that's more like a juice than a wine._  
The taste was definitely to my liking though. Despite being a previously unknown flavor for me.

"It's been a while since I've had a breakfast like this." I said in appreciation as I snatched up a croissant-like piece of bread.

Louse regarded me with an utterly puzzled expression.

"You truly are foreign." She shook her head and sighed. After taking a sip from her own serving of the amber beverage, she turned to me with more of a curious look. "Why haven't you?"

"Why would a commoner dine like a noble in the first place?" The busty redhead haughtily added.

I finished the piece of bread and lounged back into the chair, licking crusts off my fingers. _Play nice, Andreas_.

"I was tracking. Going near any hotels or restaurants-erhm-, I suppose your kind would say 'inn' or 'tavern', is a bad idea when you want to stay hidden. They usually have surveillance in or around them back home. By that I mean that I could be tracked. It's a frequently used means of preventing crime in my homeland.

Anyway, because of my target I couldn't risk being discovered or traced back to the battalion, so… I don't suppose that makes any sense to you though, does it?"

"Very little." Louise wasn't the only one paying attention. Most of our neighbors were listening in on our conversation. The blue haired girl with glasses not even trying to feign disinterest. "Professor Colbert mentioned that you might be a soldier at the ceremony, is there any truth to that? Since you're speaking of targets and battalions…"

"Ah… He's a bright one it would seem, that Colbert. In a sense he's right, but it largely depends on who you ask. In the eyes of the Swedish government, myself and my brothers in arms are nothing but rebels and terrorists. I was-am- an operative of the Black Battalion. Which means I am one among the deadliest assassins and saboteurs in Sweden. We're the fist of an organization called Blodgarm; one of four organizations leading the revolt against the current government. Which might just turn to civil war, considering my last assignment…" I trailed off as my thoughts turned to home.

It grated on my conscience to know that I'd left my country and brothers in arms just when they needed me and the battalion the most.  
It was very likely that the monarchs' death would be the last straw that forced the government into decisive action, despite how very little the royalty meant to both the swedish people and government these days. And of course, as soon as the government attacked the revolutionaries it would turn into all-out war. There'd even been talk among my compatriots about joining forces with the other revolutionary groups and launch a pre-emptive offensive.

I felt as though I'd abandoned them. As if I'd failed in my duty. _You can't factor magical abduction into the equation exactly, though…_

"Target?" A quiet voice roused me from my thoughts. I looked up to see that the blue-haired bespectacled girl two seats down across the table had put down her book and was now entirely focused on me.

I glanced to my sides and saw that everyone around us had turned to listen in on our conversation intently.  
Louise herself was looking a bit paler, but had that concentrated furrow of her brow of hers on.

"The royal family."

A chorus of gasps erupted 'round the table. My master hurriedly got up from her seat. Her jaw was set and her face downright stony.

"This is evidently _not_ a conversation we should be having here. Come, familiar."

I shrugged, crammed the last bit of bread in my mouth and got up to follow her. She stomped off at a brisk pace. We exited the dining hall and went out into the warm summer sun again. The pinkette headed to one of the five towers set in the outer wall of the academy, her blue mantle billowing out behind her as she went.

I'd no trouble keeping up with her, but I _was_ a bit surprised that she could march at such a pace. She was definitely the shortest person I'd ever met.

"So… Regicide is a sensitive topic around here, I take it?" I asked in a flippant voice.

Louise cast a dark glare my way.

"It is hardly a subject fit for breakfast, no." She replied in a hard tone.

Then she sighed and slowed her pace a little.

"Just what manner of familiar have I summoned?" She muttered to herself while shaking her head.

I just arced an eyebrow at her.

"… Master?"

"When you tell me the rest about who you are and what you do, it's not going to be any more pleasant, is it?"

"Not really, no."

Another sigh.

"Then I don't think we should talk about that among the other students. Maybe not even among the teachers. At least for now."

I shrugged. Couldn't say I cared. Very little of who I was or what I did back home meant anything here as far as I was concerned. Not that I would start blabbing about operational secrets left and right but the only thing of my past that mattered here were my skills, the way I saw it.

"So where are we headed then?"

"To Professor Colbert's office."

"Ah."

* * *

**Author's Addendum:**

**Aye, this fic will involve politics and some strong opinions and images so it might get a bit sensitive at times, my fellow countrymen. I do hope you'll find this story worthile all the same.**  
**  
If you've read my other fic here, _A Murder Of Mass_, then you may also notice some... interesting things(as soon as I get the next(10th) chapter of AMOM out that is).**

**Andreas will go into more details about the people he worked with so you'll be learning more about them as the story progressess.  
I just didn't feel that it was fair to dump a ton of info on you right away, dear reader.  
However if you have questions feel free to ask me in the review or send me a PM and I'll answer to the best of my ability (and without giving away too many spoilers).**

**Also, again, this is not an SI. This is more like a dimensional-double-gone-fubar-insert. So Andreas is built on the same foundation as me, so to speak. The rest is all him though, so I'm not going to take responsibility for whatever weird shit he does further down the line=P.**

**Also, if you think Louise is being out of character then it is because she _is_ out of character. It is by design. Mostly, at least.**  
**Andreas isn't the pushover that Saito (or my personal reference, Jason from _Inner Legion's _fic) is.**  
**Even though he's not some godlike being or superhuman like most Zerofic OC/SI on this site seem to be (at least he won't be superhuman for a while) he's still plenty deadly and you don't really boss around someone like him, mage or no.**  
**And Louise is smart. Not genius level smart but highly intelligent so it's not a far stretch to have her realize that she have to treat him differently than she was raised and taught to do for things to work.**  
**I'm sorry if you think that sucks but... It's what I'm rolling with so, yeah.**

**Anyways, thanks for stopping by!**


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